


Mona Lisa

by orphan_account



Category: Assassin's Creed, Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assassin's Creed/Good Omens crossover. Crowley and Leonardo discuss the Mona Lisa. Notes at the end. Old fic, reposted here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mona Lisa

It was a disaster of the highest proportions. Forget the impending (give or take a thousand years or so) apocalypse. Forget Hell claiming he wasn’t doing enough tempting. Even forget that damn irritating meeting with Aziraphale next week. It was an aberration. A felony. If he’d still been an angel, he’d have called it an Offense Against God. As it was, he settled for calling it an Offense. 

“What _happened?_ ” Crowley blanched, staring at the nearly-finished Mona Lisa. “It’s... it’s...”

Leonardo nodded morosely. A half-empty wineglass sat in the artist’s delicate hands: without even thinking about it, Crowley refilled it. Da Vinci hadn’t been fooled for a second, of course. He’d knocked on the door of his Florentine workshop one day, thinking of having him paint a likeness, and Leonardo had quite calmly assumed it was about his sodomy charges.* Within a matter of seconds, the glass was empty again.

“It’s Ezio’s fault,” Leonardo informed him, with remarkable clarity for a man who was on his seventh glass of wine. “He was trying to be romantic, you see.”

In a flash, the glass disappeared. If he was going to watch Leonardo get drunk, Crowley decided, he might as well help the artist do it properly. Glasses were just a hindrance in operations like this. Times like these called for drinking straight from the bottle – even if the bottle was a remarkably expensive brew that hadn’t actually existed since the rise of the Roman Empire.

“He thought it would be sweet to sneak up on me. Honestly, I don’t know where he gets these ideas. I never told him to go around interrupting people. _Especially_ not by sticking my hand down their pants when they are working on what should be a decent painting. Here, this is the original sketch – keep it, if you’d like.” 

The last comment seemed to be entirely disconnected from the artist’s mind. Though Crowley accepted the gift, it was clear Leonardo’s mind had stopped with thinking about his lover. Aziraphale would have insisted he refuse the gift until Leonardo gave it to him consciously, but the demon had no such moral qualms.

Leonardo frowned slightly, mulling something over. One of the many things that amazed Crowley about Leonardo (aside from his genius and amazing ability to procrastinate, of course) was his willingness to share personal details with the demon. Once he’d decided Crowley wasn’t a direct threat to his (or Ezio’s) immortal soul, he’d welcomed the demon with, if not open arms, an open mind. It was simultaneously refreshing and disturbing to be around a human who knew what he was without being told, so he stuck around.**

“Did he at least learn his lesson?” Crowley prompted cautiously.

“Oh, yes – he won’t be able to walk straight for a week. Say, do you think it looks like she’s hiding something?”

“Like what?” Crowley asked, unperturbed by the sudden change of topic. This was Leonardo da Vinci, after all: genius inventor, painter of masterpieces, discoverer of knowledge and the only man Crowley had met with an attention span comparable to that of a goldfish. While there were times he was capable of focusing one single project at a time, it was usually at the expense of other vital mechanisms such as remembering to eat. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Leonardo shrugged, as unconcerned as it was possible to be. He took another sip of the wine before continuing. “One of the apprentices mentioned it. Salai. Not a very bright lad, but he has a fine body and is irritating enough that Ezio does not get jealous.”

“Your lover does seem rather... possessive,” Crowley said, glancing nervously at the door to the workshop. The work had been finished outside, to take advantage of the warm summer afternoon. The drinks the duo were enjoying presently were in the pleasant cool of the evening, moths buzzing happily around the well-lit courtyard.

“You needn’t worry about him,” Leonardo chuckled, noticing the glance at the door. “He’s a bit tied up at the moment. Well, very tied up actually. And blindfolded.”

“Right,” Crowley replied, choosing to ignore that comment. “The painting, though. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Leonardo shrugged. “After all, it’s not like anyone except her husband and my workshop are ever going to see it.”

A few centuries later, after queuing for an unreasonable amount of time in Paris to see a certain painting, Crowley laughed.  
*”I should warn you,” he’d told Crowley, “I won’t make it easy. I think I’ve got some holy water lying around here somewhere, and – Ezio, lower that sword. It’s not going to hurt anyone except you. No, I don’t need help. Go upstairs and get dressed. You know I don’t like you naked in front of visitors. Er... where was I? Oh, yes, eternal condemnation. Anyway, as I was saying-" It had taken Crowley half an hour to get a word in, and that was without accounting for the shock of being threatened by a naked assassin.  
**He had introduced Aziraphale on one occasion, under duress. After several hours of rigorous questioning on the anatomical details between angel and demon, Leonardo had lost interest entirely and declared the entire separation between Heaven and Hell was ridiculous. Though he’d never dare admit it for reasons that involved horrible, bowel-clenching pain, Crowley was inclined to agree with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm fairly certain I originally wrote this for the AC kinkmeme. It's been a while, though, so I thought I'd transfer some of my more popular works over to here now that I've got my account.


End file.
